


Chapter Twenty-Five: Last

by CavalierConvoy



Series: MTMTE Series One: Shoot Straight with a Crooked Gun [26]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Generation One, Transformers Generation Two, Transformers: Beast Machines, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Alcohol Withdrawal, Armchair Therapy, Friendship/Love, Gen, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 13:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3531062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierConvoy/pseuds/CavalierConvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The vice that brought them together does not keep them together, but as two broken sparks drawn closer, there are demons from the past, waiting in the shadows to drag them under.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter Twenty-Five: Last

Gave up trying to figure it out  
But my head got lost along the way  
Worn out from giving it up  
My soul I pissed it all the way  
—["Last"](https://youtu.be/qXWLzIF4jrM) by Nine Inch Nails from Broken

  
The Lost Light  
Medibay  
Now

"Ratchet frisked me."

Artemis need not online her optics to regard the one friend she needed at that moment. "He frisked you?"

"He frisked me, yeah." Trailcutter grinned, rubbing the back of his neck as he took the chair next to the bed. "Said something about 'enabling'."

"Did he do the air quotes?"

"I did get a bit grumpy when he did that with the word 'friend'. So what happened?"

"Withdrawal symptom."

"Ever heard the human phrase for that? 'Cold Turkey'."

"Ratchet used air quotes on that as well. But yeah, I have."

"I always wondered what that meant. Ever seen a turkey? Large birds, uglier than Unicron and meaner than Prowl on a tear. Huh. Maybe it refers to the symptoms."

"They're also consumed by some humans during festivals and holidays."

"That's just unpleasant to think about. So, why the urge to throw away the one common denominator that built our friendship?"

"Now that it total slag and you know it. I wanted to see if I could pull it off."

"No, that's slag. You might as well say you're giving up the firepower and becoming a nurse. Would make my job of keeping your aft alive a hell of a lot easier, though. Still, you had me worried. When Tailgate told me you were in here...I panicked."

"I'm good, 'Cutter. I did something stupid, but I'm good now." Artemis smiled, a cocked twist that could have been a grimace. "But to contradict you previous statement, I like your company. I like the fact I don't have to pretend to be someone else around you. I like the fact that I can sing loudly and off tune and you join in. I love the fact that you can find the bright side of any situation. And, if I may add, I find it especially fun to watch you squirm uncomfortably whenever someone delivers you a compliment."

Ratchet poked his head into the room, gave Trailcutter a scathing once-over, then to Artemis, and back to her visitor, before ordering, "This door better stay open!" and departing, grumbling as he did.

"Like I'm going to sneak anything in with him on duty," Trailcutter chuckled, checking over his shoulder through the window. "Though I'm glad to see him enjoying your gift I did try to sneak in."

"If I can force a mech to drink on duty, I've done my job," Artemis rubbed her optics. "Primus, sobriety's gonna be the death of me."

"If anyone can do it — though just promise me...." He trailed off. A moment of hesitation, then he reached over, took her hand. "Just..."

"Not going anywhere," she grinned. "Me, I got a demon I've been trying to drown. Only thing I had to do it with up to this point was engex. Ratchet wants me to beat this the hard way, and can't say I blame him." She squeezed his hand reassuringly. "It might have brought us together, but it isn't what's keeping us together."

He hiccoughed; it could have been a stammer, but no words came forth.

Her optics were dim, her head, bowed. "I have a spark-brother, you know. Same make and model, same function. He accepted it, did everything by the book. I don't know what happened to him after I joined the Wreckers, but I was never close to him. I always felt that I was supposed to be close to him, but I wasn't and I couldn't force myself to behave otherwise. See, there's another bit there — you're still interested. You're not asking me to get to the point, or wondering what the point is, or anything. You're a listener."

He found his voice. "Well, you're easy to understand. And I've never found you talking about anything particularly boring."

"Have you met my brother? He's the definition of boring."

"Yeah, but you're talking about him, so I'm expecting a gunfight in about five, four, three — "

"No gunfights. I think he was an information clerk for the Senate during the Clampdown. All I know is that Pol survived by status quo. By the time I picked up the red and returned to Iacon, he was doing the same damn thing: clerical for the Senate. The point I'm trying to make around this splitting migraine is that I knew I had a brother, I interacted with said brother, but I never really experienced that supposed kinship. Until I came on board the Lost Light. And that night when it was you and me drying out in the brig and talking while in and out of consciousness ... Primus, did I really profess my undying love for Magnus?"

Trailcutter nodded. "And after beating Whirl to a scrap heap for something between the two of you—"

"Likely retaliating for what he did to Springer, knowing me."

"—proceeded to stalk after Xaaron to demand some answers—"

"—serves him right—"

"—which would explain why Crosscut took off in a hurry, which is when Magnus grabbed you by the scruff of the neck without a word, thus solidifying his reputation of being the only Autobot in history to handle Wreckers without fear or hesitation. I'm bummed I missed it, but I would like to know about your gripe with Xaaron."

"Friend of yours?"

"Former colleague, but yes."

"Ah. Ethics committee. Long story short: he tried to manipulate me into doing Senate business a decade or so ago,  which would have pulled me off-course with my mission at hand, hence why I hooked up with the Wreckers. I'll tell you the story some time when I'm thinking more clearly. So, how'd you find out about my outburst?" 

"Aquafend, just after you were cleared for security detail. Even showed me the CCTV footage. Small wonder why Whirl calls you 'boss', or why no one seems to stop beatings on him, either — oh, hell, guess who just walked in."

"Let me guess: ex-Wrecker empurata victim with a violence streak rivalling mine? How the hell did he find out?"

"Word travels fast on board this ship; you know that."

"Hey, boss! Great news!" Whirl exclaimed as he strode into the room; Ratchet was out of his office and crossing the floor in record time, taking hold of Whirl's elbow. "We're going to Hedonia! Shore leave! Everything we'd want to do and more! Not now, Doc, I'm talking to the boss!"

"I don't care if you're talking to Solus Prime Herself! I want you out of my medibay! And don't call me 'Doc'! Knock it off, you two!" Ratchet snapped as both Trailcutter and Artemis drew air quotes upon his utterance of "Doc."

Trailcutter emphasised the order by giving Whirl a wave as Ratchet dragged the ex-Wrecker out of the room.

"I wonder how Rodimus convinced Magnus that was a good idea," Artemis muttered. She pushed herself into a sitting position; the sensation of exhuming whatever contents remained in her fuel tank had abated. "Hedonia's known for two things: resort towns and black markets."

"Maybe Magnus doesn't know about the black markets."

"Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord? He's got to know about the black markets."

"Maybe it's out of his jurisdiction."

"I don't think 'out of his jurisdiction' is in his vocabulary."

"Neither are words such as 'fun' and 'relax', according to Swerve."

"Is he finally up and about?"

"And making up for lost time, to boot, but you're trying to distract me from the fact that you have that look on your face. That one — that look you get on duty, regardless that you're supposed to be on medical leave...."

"I had two books with me. A ship's manifest and a copy of _Complete Works of Fisitron_. They were from Red's hab unit. Can you find out where they went? Also, there's a file on my 'pad, a mind-mapping one, along with the warrant to search Red's hab; Magnus would have a copy on file."

He grinned, resting a hand on her arm. "You're laid up in a hospital slab, fighting severe engex withdrawal, and you're still working. That's dedication. Starting to see what you and Magnus have in common now."

Contact — the contact was good. Safe. "Find out where those books went. And if my 'pad has nothing, hunt down Cav. Tell her what I told you. She'll know what to do."

"Start from the obvious and work back. What am I looking for?"

"Garrus-9." She sighed. "Something about Garrus-9. Likely stemming from Max when he came on board."

"I think I've got a plan of attack." Trailcutter gripped her shoulder with a squeeze. "Let me take care of it, bro; you get some rest."

She did not correct him on the wrong declension; what would have been the point? Instead, she nodded, her optics dimming as though in rest mode.

She had not intended to drift offline, and the monsters in her peripheral took advantage of her dry state.

This time, they dragged her somewhere she had never been, never witnessed, but was all too familiar.

 

*

 

"You were her PCP back on the Earth outpost; tell me what's going on."

First Aid regarded Ratchet with a blank expression, an unintentional feature of sporting both a faceplate and a single pane visor, before answering. "I would like to state that, for the record, we were understaffed, with no immediate access to mental health professionals. Earth was treated as a hostile war zone at the time. When Artemis arrived, she had a severed left front rotator, countless black market modifications, and faulty brakes. She was treated with apprehension and distrust due to her supposed Decepticon allegiance. Leaked classified documents revealed that she was under Senate orders just before the Clampdown to infiltrate the Decepticon ranks and not to blow her cover under any circumstances, and she was still maintaining cover even after. It took us nearly two stels convince her that the Senate wasn't going to come after her for breaking rank, that she was safe. Two stels, Ratchet, to get her to trust us that we weren't going to throw her back. At this point I will say that my views regarding the situation forged my standing opinion on the Senate at the time—"

"—an otherwise normal 'bot that refused to operate within her perimeters, and rather than deal with the sarcasm and violent streak but otherwise law-abiding, gave her a fancy covert agent status and shipped her off to Kaon, under the hopes that she get slagged one way or another so that they don't get their hands dirty, and if they get intel, then bonus." The chief medical officer watched through his office glazing Trailcutter leaving the medibay before returning his attention to his assistant. 

"They did not expect her to survive. And she figured that out."

"And being as stubborn as she is, she'd survive out of spite." 

"So when you ask me about her well-being, we were able to fix the rotator and either remove or append the upgrades. When I requested to have a mental health expert come to Earth, and had to explain why, the next thing I knew, Art had been called to Iacon, and I was shuttled to Delphi, the only reason given was that my services were needed there."

"So there is a personal grudge involved." 

"I wouldn't go as far as personal. I will go where I am needed. But the outposts rarely get the supplies needed in the best of times; we were fortunate with Earth. Not so on Delphi. And still no mental health care. I made a call — it might have been bad — to jump start Max from his coma during Pharma's breakdown. We might have been able to treat him better had we a psychiatrist on staff."

"I'm not in disagreement," Ratchet nodded. "I requested a similar position to help with Red Alert while stationed on Earth. The situation, I had thought, seemed to level out on its own, and I thought nothing else of it, until recently." He stood, both palms on the desk. "It's no good thinking about what we should have done. The best we can do is work with what we have in the present."

A crash interrupted First Aid from responding.

 

NEXT CHAPTER: Destroy Everything You Touch


End file.
